Why I Hated Being Pregnant

Before I begin let me say that I am more than thankful for the beautiful son I have been blessed with and would not trade him for anything in the world. With that said, I hated being pregnant. Don't get me wrong, I am aware that many women cannot conceive and I should be grateful and I am. I just didn't enjoy it - not one bit. It was as if there was ailment after ailment, and no relief in sight. The constant looming of the frightening childbirth was enough to send me running the other way. Most women I talked to told me stories of how they just loved being pregnant and how it was a beautiful thing. Beautiful was the last thing I felt.

It felt like the day I took a pregnancy test was when my morning sickness began. Not only in the morning might I add, but in the afternoon, in the evening and in the middle of the night. So that is where I began my nine month journey. After getting much advice about how it goes away after the first trimester, I longed for the day to be able to eat a full meal and not wake up to the constant urge to hurl. Well month four came and went. The vomiting was gone, but I was constantly nauseous. It was an awful feeling to have all day and every day. That feeling did not pass until my water broke and I had a whole new pain to worry about. I worried about whether my lack of nutrition was hurting the baby or whether the stress it was causing would affect my pregnancy. After trying many different remedies, sea bands, ginger tea, saltines, you name it, my doctor prescribed me a medication. It worked. Now of course I had a constant feeling of guilt over whether or not my baby would be affected by the medicine.

That is when the heartburn began. It didn't matter what I ate, I had a horrible sensation of fire coming up through my throat. I had never had heartburn before and am happy to say I don't get it now either. The pain was so intense that sleeping propped up began to be the only comfortable way to get a little rest.

Somewhere between the nausea and weight gain came the depression. I still don't know why, but I had a very difficult time with depression while I was pregnant. I voiced this concern to my doctor and he had recommended medication. This time I figured I needed to hack it out for the baby. Even though there were medications considered safe to take after the first trimester, I just couldn't do it. So then I began to feel like a freak. Who feels depressed while carrying their child? No one has ever fessed up to feeling this way yet. Not that I was advertising, but I never felt I could tell anyone because of the joy women preached about while they were pregnant. It was such a strong emotional roller coaster that I was sure there was something wrong with me. I became an irrational, anxious, wild woman.

So once I could eat again, the weight gain started. Not just a few pounds, like the recommended weight gain, but sixty five pounds. Now I am five feet three inches and somewhat petite. Not anymore. Immediately the large maternity clothes I had no longer fit and extra large was my new size. I knew I was huge when a woman in a Quick Chek saw me coming at her down and aisle close to my due date and said "Oh my lord!" Well I really think she didn't truly mean for the words she was thinking to actually come out. No exaggeration, I was enormous. If one more person said "oh my god, you are sooooo big", I think I was going to lose my mind.

When you are blessed with the raging hormones your body is producing while growing a human, you are exhausted. See, this is where Mother Nature is cruel. It is impossible to get comfortable and actually sleep through the night. If you do have the opportunity to get cozy enough to drift off, you have to get up to visit the bathroom several times a night. I actually think I began sleepwalking to the toilet after a few weeks.

Then cam the time for my glucose test. Any woman who has been pregnant knows exactly what I am talking about. It is when you go to the lab and drink a horrible sweet drink and then get your blood drank to measure your blood sugar. While you wait the hour after your gulp down the grossness, you cannot drink anything, water or mints. Don't forget about the morning sickness, I really didn't think I was going to be able to keep it down. When the hour was up I was relieved to go to the bathroom drink water, and have my arm poked again. A few days later was when the dreaded phone call came. My sugar was high. This meant I was at risk for having gestational diabetes. So back I went to the lab for a four hour glucose test. Yes I said hour hours. No drinking, eating or leaving the building. I am sure you can figure it out from here that I tested high again. This meant I had gestational diabetes. Where it came from I don't know, probably because I was the size of a small whale. Luckily I did not have to take insulin, but I had the joy of a restricted diet for the rest of my pregnancy. No sweets, no ice cream, no cookies. I thought the whole point of being pregnant was to be able to eat whatever I wanted. Nope. Not a thing.

Luckily my due date rolled around and I was induced. That is another story, but I am blessed with a beautiful baby boy and the pregnancy became a distant memory. For some reason all the discomfort and depression faded and it was as if I forgot about everything. Either that or it was that I didn't have time to think about it. Having another child is something that I would like, but my pregnancy was so difficult that I really feel I need to be mentally prepared for it. At least this time I will be aware of what really happens. If I am lucky it could be the complete opposite. So let's hope for a little luck.